


Never That Simple

by blackfin



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes
Genre: Drabble, Short, book three spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 04:53:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16947366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackfin/pseuds/blackfin
Summary: He knew what she was going to say before she even appeared in his doorway."Must you be so hard on them?" Queen Henriette asks, her voice gentle but her gaze pained.It's not that simple. Not when he leads his son towards becoming King, knowing what awaits him from the moment the crown touches his head.





	Never That Simple

**Author's Note:**

> idk, man   
> I saw a lot of people hating on Gustav and like...I guess it just shows my age but I get where he's coming from   
> Granted, I don't agree with his attitude but I do get what the man is saying   
> So, here is a little drabble of a scene that might've come after, based on my own interpretations of Gustav

He knew what she was going to say before she even appeared in his doorway, holding a tray with a steaming cup of tea atop it. Offering a small smile, her eyes gentle and warm, she swept into the room, the hem of her dress brushing across the floor, and placed the cup in front of him. After leaning down to give him a quick peck on the temple, she sat on the edge of the desk, placed her hands daintily in her lap and asked the question he knew was coming. 

“Must you be so hard on them, dear?” Her voice was soft, with a touch of exasperation in it. “They are doing the best they can.”

Setting aside his quill with a quiet huff, Gustav took a cautious sip of his tea and, upon finding it still too, put it back down to cool off for a while longer. Turning a stern eye to his wife, he said gruffly, “When do you expect them to grow up, Henriette? 10? 20 years from now?” 

“There’s a difference between leading them towards becoming adults, and knocking them down from the progress they’ve made on their own.” She reminded him, placing a small hand on top of his. 

“They need to learn.” He stated firmly, “I will not be around forever. Askr needs a good, strong king and Alfonse is nowhere near that.” 

“He isn’t.” Henriette agreed with a slight shake of her head, “I know there is truth in what you say. Alfonse is unable to see things on the grand scale and does not yet understand what it means to be King. He is not able to fathom yet that…” She paused, her expression becoming pained, “you cannot save everyone.”

“He nearly got himself and his sister killed today.” Gustav said bluntly, raising to his feet. Striding over to the nearby window, he stared out it for a moment, gaze roaming over the expansive lands of Askr, “Did it occur to him to think what might’ve happened if he had died? Did he once stop to think how it would affect Askr, you and I? If it did, it did not stop him. That boy, that…child will run headlong into danger if there’s even so much of the slightest chance that he might save those who are threatened and simply does not understand he is not invincible!” 

“Yet,” He turned to his wife, hands curling into loose fists, “you’d have me be gentle. When he’s leading our daughter into fights that they only have the slimmest chances of winning! When he’s putting his own life on the line for a one single threat while dozens hang over his head! You ask me to be gentle when his actions not only threaten Sharena but Askr itself!”

“That boy-“ He cut his wife off as she opened her mouth to speak, “needs to learn. He needs to grow up and realize the weight behind his actions. He is to be King, Henriette. What would you have? A boy sitting on the throne, slowly learning that it is an impossibility to save everyone while his heart becomes bitter and broken? Or, would you have a man who knows to hold kindness firmly in his heart, to always look upon his people with love and compassion, no matter how hard things may become but understands that this world is not kind, and at some point, he is going to have to make a sacrifice for the greater good of his country.” 

Pressing a closed fist to her heart, Henriette clenched her eyes shut, bowing her head. Sighing heavily, brushing a heavy hand through his hair, Gustav went to her, gathering her up in his arms and squeezing her slender frame close. Pressing his cheek to her soft hair, he murmured, “It gives me no joy to be so harsh with them.”

“He looks up to you.” Henriette whispered, “He wants so badly to please you, to make you happy. I know the lessons you must teach are important but…”

“No.” Gustav said firmly, slipping his arms away and stepping back. “He must learn, Henriette. He will learn. There is no easy way to tell him to leave some to die so that some others may live. There is no gentle way to teach him how to make that decision, or how to handle the grief and agony that it brings. Right now, that child believes, even though he would never admit it, that he can save everyone. I will not stand here and watch his heart shatter when he finally understands how wrong he is. If that means I must be a slap across his face, then so be it.”

Sitting back down, he picked his quill up once more, took a sip of his now slightly cold tea and said quietly, “This is what all Kings of Askr have had to learn. We have all been in his position. We have all looked at our land, our people with the thought that we will be great Kings who will save everyone, only to have that fantasy crash down onto our heads. I cannot save him from that. I cannot prevent that inevitability but…I can lessen the blow as much as possible.”

“Darling-“ Henriette started, her voice pleading but he raised a hand to stop her. 

“That’s enough. I will hear no more.” 

“Yes, darling.” She whispered, and he could hear the pain laced through his voice. Biting down hard on the side of his tongue, he leaned into her warmth when she placed another kiss on his temple, then she was gone, leaving him to his paperwork. He toiled away for a few moments then set the quill aside once more, got to his feet and left his study. Traveling down the path through familiar hallways, he passed servants and guards who bowed deeply. None asked where he was going, and he would not have told them if they had. 

There was silence behind the door he stopped in front of. It was late, the occupant in the room would be fast asleep, curled up on his side with his fingers loosely curled around the dagger he kept underneath the pillow. A habit his grandfather had passed onto him. Pushing the door open carefully, Gustav slipped into the dimly lit room, the only light coming from the dying fire. As predicted, Alfonse lay sleeping on his side, one hand pushed underneath a nearby pillow. 

Keeping his steps light and quiet, Gustav made his way over to the bed. He didn’t dare sit down – the motion would wake Alfonse. His presence in his bedroom so late at night would only alarm him. Instead, he carefully pulled up the blanket, tucking it underneath his chin, a small smile touching his lips when Alfonse snuggled deeper into the warmth, sighing softly. Most nights, that was where he’d leave it. Remaining for too long was a risk that wasn’t worth taking but tonight, he lingered, his gaze resting on his child’s face. 

He was a good boy. Kindhearted, steadfast, courageous and selfless. All qualities that were required in a good King, yet the rose colored glass had not yet fallen from his eyes. Knowing that someday, he was going to be faced with an immeasurable evil, one that would force him to see how unjust this world could be…terrified him. He wanted to hold to the thought that he could survive it with his heart intact but that was a fantasy, concocted to soothe a screeching panic. How far would he go? How far could he fall? What would await him if he continued down this path?

Sighing softly, Gustav hesitantly rested a large hand on Alfonse’s head. Alfonse, Sharena…his beloved children, by bringing them into this world, he had put them on a path where there would be constant suffering. For the good of Askr, he had provided an heir, and had cursed his son to a lifetime of cruelty and agony. Be kind, be gentle, his wife would say. How he longed to be. Lightly stroking his son’s hair, he slid down to one knee, his gaze never leaving the slumbering face of his son. 

He wondered if she even believed he loved them. She must or, at least, told herself that she did but there had to be a little voice in the back of her head that whispered he only viewed them as tools to be used for the betterment of Askr. If she did think such a thing, he couldn’t blame her. It killed him…to watch his children’s faces fall as he only delivered harsh reprimands; to see the fear, the nervousness in their eyes when he approached, knowing that there was only the cold, hard bite of his words. 

He loved them. He loved them both so much that he was willing to do anything to prepare them for the constant tempest that would roar over their heads. This…this was all he could do. He couldn’t lessen the blow, he couldn’t make it any easier, he couldn’t take the away the pain they would endure. All he could do was prepare them and pray. 

Pray that the world would be far kinder to them than it was to him.


End file.
